


Some Like it Hot

by LawrenceKinden



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Sex, Spanking, non-con play, rough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrenceKinden/pseuds/LawrenceKinden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Story Contains Spanking]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Like it Hot

She smiled at me, biting her lower lip with shame and anticipation. She liked to fight it, to pretend she didn't want it, so she stood just out of reach, her hands behind her back and gave me that look. I stepped toward her and she took a step back. I liked it when she tried to get away; it set my heart to racing.

I stepped forward again and she stepped back again, bumping against the wall. She started, surprised. She hadn't realized how close she was to the edge of the room, and I took advantage of her distraction to dart forward and grab her arm. I pulled her to me. She struggled, squirming side to side, and I nearly lost my grip, so I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her back against my chest.

She continued to struggle, but she groaned, high and breathy, so I knew I had her.

One of my arms wrapped low around her torso, so with the other I slipped my hand under her loose t-shirt and up to her breasts incased in a thin, satin bra. I squeezed gently and she moaned again. Her struggles lessened. I put my face on her neck and breathed her in. She smelled of sweat and eagerness. I kissed her neck and she leaned back into me. I bit her gently and she squeaked.

With one hand holding her firmly by the breast, I slid my other hand back over her hip and shifted so that I could grasp her right buttock. She didn't struggle, so I quickly spanked her, three times, a triple pop that filled the room with its sharp tattoo and her sudden cries. She pulled away from me and tried for the door, but I snagged her wrist. She tried to push me away and I had hold of both her arms. I pulled her down with me and wrestled her over one knee, scissoring her kicking legs and pinning her wrists to the small of her back.

I spanked her hard. Her thin, cotton skirt did little to muffle the sound. She squealed and arched. I spanked her again and her whole body bucked. I spanked her again and again, holding her tight, and she cried out incoherently.

I was biting my lip now, my eyes wide and my breathing hard.

With a deft movement born of much practice, I flipped her skirt up to reveal her pale pink panties dotted with yellow and blue butterflies. I'd never seen these panties before. She knew I liked cute panties; she knew I liked seeing something new.

I spanked her half a dozen times—quick popping spanks that counter-melodied her high squeals of pain. Her bare legs became sweaty against mine and it was as though we were melding. I relished the feel of her skin on mine. And as I spanked her, as she grew used to the stinging fire, her struggles lessened, so I grabbed the hem of her panties and pulled them down as far as I could.

She squealed in protest and her struggles were renewed. Her pale, round bottom was pink and splotchy. I spanked her fast and hard so that her bottom bounced and her legs kicked and her back arched, all as she squirmed side to side trying to get away. I held her tightly and spanked her bottom bright pink and splotchy red. My palm began to sting, my shoulder to grow sore, but I spanked her until she lay limp and crying.

When I released her, she got quickly to her knees, pulling her sweaty skin from mine. She rubbed her reddened backside, tears streaming down her cheeks. I leaned back against the wall, still sitting, watching her, my breath labored, my chest heaving.

Eventually, she sat on the floor and leaned her back into my chest and pulled her knees up so that her skirt fell to her waist. I wrapped my arms around her gently, letting one hand slide under her shirt to her belly, the other to tease at the hem of her skirt; her panties were still around her thighs. She sighed heavily and leaned into me hard. I slid my hand from the hem of her skirt to the inside of her thigh, playing with the damp curls there.

She groaned again.

I slipped my fingers to her swelling vulva and massaged gently. I ran my other hand up her torso, slipped under her smooth satin bra and squeezed first one breast then the other. When her breathing became labored again, I pushed my way between her vulva and found her little nub of a clitoris. She was warm and damp and I rubbed her gently, small circles that made her squeak breathily until she suddenly tensed, holding her breath, and then slumped against me again.

"Was that all right?" I asked.

She nodded. "Uh huh..."

"It's my turn next time, right?"

"Absolutely."


End file.
